


Garnet

by LPM



Series: Blood Justice [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Detectives, Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - No Hale Fire, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Awesome Laura Hale, Crime Fighting, Crime Scenes, Crimes & Criminals, Dead People, Death, Detective Derek, Detective Derek Hale, Detective Stiles, Detectives, F/M, Gen, Guns, M/M, Magic, Major Original Character(s), Minor Character Death, Minor Original Character(s), Multi, Original Character(s), Original Fiction, Original Universe, Police Officer Laura Hale, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-01
Updated: 2014-02-01
Packaged: 2018-01-10 18:11:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1162897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LPM/pseuds/LPM
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The investigation kicks up another notch when the body of a young girl is discovered dead in her home. Can newly minted partners Stiles and Derek, along with the other agents, link this tragic death to the murderous pair of vampiric brothers? And will this new development lead them closer to finding out what Antonin and Asimov are doing back after so long?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Garnet

**Author's Note:**

> GUYS! I am in love with all of you, you're the reason I keep going! Please keep up the comments and feel free to tell me if anything doesn't make sense or is incorrect! Anyway I tried to research as much as I could about things below but I'm an amateur, please bear with me!
> 
> As always, please feel free to drop by and visit me on tumblr! I'm thelpm.tumblr.com and I don't bite, I swear!

_He felt the burn of it seeping into his system, carried through his body by traitorous veins. The bite was deep, too deep to have any doubt about what was happening to him. It was then that he felt a fear he hadn't encountered in hundreds of years, the great looming specter of death stood before him. Beckoning._

_"No" he railed against it. He had a mission, he had vengeance, he had many more things to accomplish. He could not go the same way so many before him had gone, feeding his blood to the ever-hungry rocks of the jagged land. No. He would survive, all was not lost to him, there was still one who could save him. Yes, his life lay in a name, one name._

_Andrea._

* * *

  
The black Camaro whips through traffic, bound for the Upper East Side. Inside it, Derek Hale steers with sure-handed ease while Stiles Stilinski sits next to him in the passenger seat, looking perturbed. In his hands are clutched papers, hurriedly sent over from the homicide unit of the precinct that had picked up a suspicious looking case.

"Evelyn Summers, 17, found dead from an apparent gunshot to the head" Stiles says, "they're saying it was suicide but some things aren't adding up."

Derek remains silent and impassive, his eyes hidden behind the dark lenses of his classic wayfarers.

In the week since the team from California had arrived, things at the Force had become significantly more chaotic. When Cragan had told Stiles he'd be partnered with "the" Derek Hale, he'd felt victorious. Even though Rodriguez gave him sad eyes behind his new partner, Chesterfield's, back, Stiles couldn't help the vicious satisfaction of being appointed back to the case. He hadn't nearly been blown up for nothing. But the triumph had quickly faded to exhaustion as his new partner proved a tireless force to be reckoned with.

 _"You got your work cut out for you with this one kid"_ Cragan had said to a slack-jawed Stiles, after giving him the good news.

_"Hale isn't here for tea time, he's not here to chat with you or be your friend and he won't hesitate to let you know it. Just do the job Stilinski, and let's try and wrap this mess up quickly."_

Even sitting in the Camaro, speeding towards what might be the first big development in the case, Stiles can't help but feel drained. Cragan's words echo in his mind, like a taunt. At the time, he'd taken it lightly, sure that they would get along fine after overcoming the initial stiffness. Now, however, he knew Cragan couldn't have been more right. Derek Hale is as stoic as they come, taciturn and acerbic at turns, his mood is always some shade of black. Even though he rubs Stiles the wrong way, his home team has a fierce devotion and affection for him that Stiles can't fathom. How anyone could come to love such an ass is beyond him.

When they reach the crime scene, CSI is there, going over the place with a fine tooth comb. The Force liaison team, consisting of fair-haired Isaac, puppy-like Scott, and Derek's sister Laura, is there as well, talking with several people. Crouched over the body is Lydia, talking in a low murmur to another unidentified person. Handsome, but extremely pompous, Jackson wanders the scene with other CSI, taking pictures and notes.

"What've we got?" Derek asks Isaac, who lopes over to them when they enter.

"Young girl, apparent suicide, but something wasn't sitting right with the original detectives so they gave us a call" Isaac says, and Stiles wants to roll his eyes because, hello, he'd totally just said that in the car.  
"show me" Derek says, and they all walk to where the body is.

Even after being in his line of work for a time, after seeing what horrors humans and werewolves and vampires and sundry could commit, the sight of a body is still an unsettling one. Evelyn Summers, slumped lifelessly on the ground, is no different.

Blood and bits of other matter are sprayed on the nearby wall, which the CSI team has all stringed up for trajectory analysis. Next to Evelyn's limp hand is a .40 S&W revolver that a white-gloved CSI is putting in an evidence bag.

"What's the problem here?" Derek asks, brow furrowed and sharp eyes assessing,

"Well there were some things that stood out. First is the blood spatter, hit the wall kind of low didn't it? She was sitting when the gunshot happened, and usually the HVIS from a wound like this would hit more parallel to the head, depending on the angle." Isaac explains, pointing at the gruesome spray of brown-red adorning the wall.

"the point of entry is pretty high, sort of an awkward angle for a girl of her height and definitely not the first place any person would decide to shoot from" Isaac continues, pointing to the mess of matted hair and broken skull where the gunshot wound was. "there is no trace of gunpowder on the victim's hands nor is there any back spatter present on the muzzle of the weapon. While that's not conclusive, since guns larger than about a .38 caliber can sometimes not produce back spatter, it's kind of suspicious together with the rest of this."

Isaac walks away from the body and towards a bed where one big yellow marker is placed. Stiles and Derek follow.

"We don't have much else on the scene, but here we've got something pretty inexplicable." Isaac points to the marker, which sits next to a quarter sized droplet of blood.

"Low velocity spatter, likely caused from a cut of some sort, its the only one around.Definitely older than any of the blood on the wall but not by much. Thing is, their ME couldn't find any open wounds on the body. Ours is giving it a look-over and then they'll move her to the lab for the full workup. We'll also run the weapon, see who owned it. Somehow we doubt it belonged to the girl."

Derek's expression is one of deep concentration for a moment before he speaks again,

"what makes us think this might be our guys?" he asks.

Scott strides over then, tiredly running a hand through his riotous brown hair.

"The boyfriend" he says on an exhale. At Derek and Stiles' confused looks, he explains.

"Seems like our girl recently 'met someone' at a party out in SoHo. Guy was older, according to the mom who only saw him once."

Derek nods, "let me guess" he says, "mom started noticing changes in behavior about three weeks ago? Late nights, looking pale, always wearing long sleeves?"

Scott nods grimly.

"It may not be our guys, but with the whole city of vamps under self-imposed lockdown, nobody wants to get into anything fishy because the crackdown is a lot swifter with the Force on its toes. This seems like the actions of someone who doesn't care, and those brothers are notorious for taunting the law."

Derek is nodding along again, the theory makes sense.

"Alright" he says on an exhale, "you and Isaac follow up with the original detective team. I want to know who this girl was friends with, what activities she was in, her grades, everything. It may be nothing but we've gotta follow it. Our ME will get on the examination, Ms. Martin..."

Lydia looks over at Derek from where she's standing over the body,

"Detective Hale?" she answers,

"I want a tox report on the blood, put a rush on it. And try and find any signs of recent wounds, I take it you know how to identify hyper-regenerated skin?" Derek asks. Lydia nods,

"Of course, I'll get right on it." she says, and turns to direct two men to pack up the body.

With everyone in motion, setting about completing their tasks, Derek turns and walks out of the room. Stiles follows.

"So what are you thinking?" he asks as they stride down the hall and out of the building, "do we have a lead?"

Derek slips his wayfarers onto his face and opens the Camaro,

"we might" he grunts, as he slides into the car, "but until it pans out, we're going to do some footwork."

* * *

 

Two weeks later and Stiles is convinced he hadn't known the true meaning of exhaustion until he met Derek Hale. Stiles had taken the guy through every vampire hangout and hovel in the city, ruffling feathers left and right because Derek's manners left a lot to be desired.

"He's cuckoo!" Stiles moans, spinning in a chair in the lab while Lydia regards him with unsympathetic eyes,

"And apparently we're in the early 90s" she remarks dryly. Stiles disregards her,

"He wants us up and out by 6am Lyds, 6 am! Is that a decent time to be running around the city looking for some deranged vamps? Is it I ask!?" he complains bitterly, thinking about the hours of sleep he hasn't had recently.

"Detective Hale's just a man on a mission Stiles, they didn't appoint him head detective on this case for his good looks and winning personality" Lydia says. Stiles can agree with that, though there are a lot of things Derek can get away with just on his looks alone. The guy is fit.

"I dunno, its almost as if the Amicus brothers disappeared after the bombing" he huffs, slumping in the chair, "like they came out of hiding for a few days' worth of open murder and terrorism and then decided to go back under. Nobody's even had a whiff of them in weeks!"

The truth of his words weigh heavy on his heart.

Antonin and Asimov Amicus had gone ghost, and not a vamp in the entire city knew where they were. Stiles had flirted, begged, wheedled, and bribed every vampire Signore this side of the Delaware and not a peep, even when Derek had glowered and threatened. Reaching the nadir of the investigation, and so early on, was not a good sign, and everyone knew it. Cragan's face has more and more lines on it and his infamously bald head is now not so much.

"It hasn't been long Stiles" Lydia soothes, "you just need to keep at it."

Stiles heaves a sigh. He knows she's right, and its not as if they're working on nothing. The tox screen on Evelyn Summers had come back negative for anything, but Lydia had managed to locate at least three sites of hyper-regeneration (supernaturally accelerated regrowth of damaged skin, some vampires use it when they want to cover their tracks) on her body. Scott and Isaac are chasing down every suspicious death in the city, working on even the whisper of a lead.

"I guess you're right" Stiles says, standing and stretching. Lydia bends over a microscope and makes a shooing motion with her hands,

"of course I'm right. Now, off with you. We both have work to do before tonight" she says, and Stiles brightens considerably, he'd totally forgotten.

In an effort to boost team morale, Cragan had approved a department outing to a nearby bar. It was to promote relations between the California team and the home team as well since there were some toes trampled when the brass had dropped outsiders in on their case. Everyone had been given a stern-eyed invitation, even Derek hadn't been able to decline attendance.

Stiles is just happy to have a little bit of a night off after three weeks of going hard at the grind. He'd just have himself a little drink and get pleasantly buzzed before going home to collapse in bed.

* * *

 

Asimov Amicus is a man to whom family is of great importance. He had once had a wife, many hundreds of years ago. Delphine had been beautiful, with lustrous hair the color of mahogany and delicate fair skin. She had been the daughter of a fisherman, strictly below his class, but so captivating that he hadn't hesitated to take her to wife. Even now, 293 years since he had seen her last, he couldn't forget her.

"Brooding again brother?" a voice startles Asimov out of his memories, pulling him from the memory of the salt-tinged breeze as it blew through Delphine's hair. He turns around from where he stands at the window to face his brother Antonin, who smirks unpleasantly at him from the door of his room.

"Reminiscing rather," Asimov replies, taking in his brother's appearance with disdain. Antonin is characteristically disheveled, wearing jeans and a blood smeared button down. It's the blood that irks Asimov, incites the deep-seated anger inside him.

"I see you have been out, endangering our plan again" he says and, predictably, Antonin rolls his eyes.

While not the youngest of the Amicus brothers, Antonin is surely the most immature. Turned at the age of 21, he had spent the past 200 years in a haze of bloodlust and womanizing. He was, as their father would say, a hopeless wanton. What really stings for Asimov is that, despite all of his obvious shortcomings, his blatant disregard for their family's mission, Antonin is still their father's most beloved child.

"You know the Force have begun investigating that girl you killed," Asimov bites out, feeling increasingly enraged by his brother's indifference. Antonin laughs,

"which one?" he says, flippantly "there are so many."

Asimov moves and is suddenly in front of his brother, eyes terrifying with anger,

"Make no mistake Brother," he growls, "Father will stand for your asinine proclivities, but I will not."

Antonin is no longer laughing, but scowling sullenly at him,

"you will conduct yourself with caution from here on, understand?" Antonin says, and doesn't wait for a response before he leaves the room, unwilling to get into a physical altercation just then.

Outside, the cool night air soothes his boiling anger.

He doesn't mean to always snap at his brother, but he'd been cleaning up after his foolishness for too long to have much in the way of patience. He's been alive for 317 years, and he's seen so much, but all it takes is his little brother behaving badly to turn him into an irrational man of mere human years.

Sometimes he wishes he could go back, all the way back to the time when his family wasn't consumed by vengeance and bloodshed. Back then, living and working in a small village between Marseille and Cassis, things had been far simpler.

His grandfather Adamus had run a successful shop in town with his brother, Ametrius. From the wealth they garnered doing that, the Amicus clan was able to live comfortably. Asimov's father, Arsenic, had wed and whelped a child very young, and so the prosperous clan lived all together, three generations in harmony.

It wasn't until the Turk had come to town, with his dark hair and dark skin, that things started changing. Hakan had been like a magician from a fairytale, full of odd tales of mystic lands. He'd arrived in the village when Asimov was 19 years old and had taken an immediate liking to his grandfather. The rest of the village feared the foreigner and Asimov himself had always felt that there was something very strange about the man, some chill aura that surrounded him at all times.

Five years passed and his grandfather changed considerably, becoming greedier and less kind. The business grew and the family became wealthier, Adamus became closer and closer to Hakan and his brother, Ametrius, became increasingly worried. Then the Great Plague of Marseille happened, and it killed so many people, including Delphine. This was how they finally learned of Hakan's true nature.

_"A what?" Asimov exclaimed, looking wildly at his father and grandfather's placid faces,_

_"You cannot be serious!"_

_Arsenic, ever impatient, made a noise of frustration_

_"What kind of thing is this to jest about boy?" he barked, "our friend Hakan is a vampire, an immortal, a denizen of the night world,"_

_"and a blasphemy!" Asimov cried, "what is this you are saying? You cannot mean to...to accept this offer of his? It is absurd! Father, Grandfather, do you not see this as folly?"_

_Arsenic opened his mouth to speak but Adamus raised a hand to silence his son,_

_"it is survival, Grandson." he professed "and survive, we must."_

So Hakan had turned them. The entire clan. Ametrius had been difficult to persuade, but even he had conceded when faced with the prospect of losing his family. They became a clan of the undead, eventually leaving the little village with all the wealth they had amassed, and moving to England, where their fortune continued to grow.

Sometimes Asimov wishes he had died in that plague. Died to be with Delphine and the unborn child that had slept in her belly. But that was not his fate, Hakan had seen to it. So he must devote himself to his family's plan, achieve the victory that his grandfather had been unable to see in life; and nothing, not even his own brother, would get in the way of that.

* * *

 

Stiles wakes up on Lydia's couch cursing the name Jose Cuervo.

He always rues the day he ever decided to even look at tequila, let alone ingest it; but Scott had instigated a shots competition, and Stiles has never been one to back out of a challenge. By the end of the night, he and Scott were fast friends and he had warmed all the way up to the California team members. Erica's sharp tongue and sharper wit made her almost as terrifying a friend as Lydia, but she had a very visible soft spot for big, handsome Boyd. Isaac had sassed his way through the night, dropping slurred one-liners and making suggestive eyes at very nearly everyone. Danny, dimpled and undeniably attractive, had captured Stiles' interest and fascination with a story about hacking into his school's computer network back in the day. It was only Derek, who remained resolutely stiff and formal, whose facade Stiles still couldn't crack.

Well...not completely that is.

There had been a moment, so fleeting that Stiles isn't even sure it happened, where he had felt something. He'd been drunk and stumbling towards the bathroom when he'd tripped over his own feet. Sure he was about to hit the ground and get thrown out for being too drunk, he'd shut his eyes tight and let gravity do its work. But the impact never came, instead, two large hands had grasped him by the biceps, holding him steady. He'd opened his eyes to Derek's own green-blue stunners, peering worriedly down at him.

Drunk Stiles had stared like a deer in headlights, licking his suddenly dry lips nervously. Derek's eyes had snapped down to track the movement of his tongue across his mouth and then back up to meet Stiles' eyes. A momentary flash of something dark and predatory crossed his expression and even drunk, Stiles felt the world stop.

Then he was being helped to his feet and, after awkward mumbled apologies and thanks, wobbled off to the bathroom.

"Morning"

Lydia, looking pale and disheveled in a way that says her night had been just as long as his, troops into the living room. Stiles grunts a greeting at her and gets up, going through the motions of making morning-after hangover breakfast remedy.

"So I think we can agree on never drinking tequila again" Stiles says, some time later, when they're both feeling less like roadkill. Lydia, gingerly sipping a steaming mug full of chamomile tea, nods in agreement.

"Hangover aside though, I thought last night was fun!" Stiles chirps, remembering the heat in Derek's green-blue eyes. Lydia snorts and rolls her eyes,

"you _would_ " she scoffs. Stiles turns to her, indignant,

"and what is that supposed to mean!?" he asks. Lydia adopts a dramatic pose, one hand on her chest and the other poised in the air above her head,

"oh look at me, little Stiles, I'm ever so tipsy!" she laments in an awful falsetto, "oops I seem to have tripped over my feet, who will saaave me!?" suddenly she switches her position, adopting an aggressive loom while her arms look like they're holding an invisible person,

"it is I Stiles, beefcake hunkadorian of your very dreams, Derek Hale! I've rescued you!" she grunts in a rough rumbling voice. She changes her position again, back to the simpering 'Stiles'

"Oh Derek! My hero! Kiss me now ya big lug!"

A minute of smooching noises ensues and Stiles finally swats Lydia on the arm to make it stop.

"Shut up, that's not how it happened!" he grouses, Lydia shoots him a look that says 'might as well have been'.

He opens his mouth to protest but his work phone goes off and grinds the conversation to a halt.

"Stilinski" he says when he answers, and Cragan's tired voice comes through the earpiece, saying

"kid, we got a line. Get down to Molly's Bakery on 34th, your partner will meet you there." he hangs up abruptly.

Stiles blows out a sigh and stands,

"I'll consider use of your shower as apology for that atrocious imitation of me you just did" he says. Lydia's expression is all business as she asks,

"what is it?"

Stiles shrugs, feeling the first few pricks of excitement blossom inside him,

"a lead." he says, "I think we've got a lead."

**Author's Note:**

> So how was it? I know there was a lot about the Amicus brothers in there but I thought it was all necessary background. I did a bit of research about the whole...blood spatter stuff but I go to law school, not...criminology...school...so I'm only going off what research I could understand properly. Anyway, I hope you guys liked it. Stuff has started gaining momentum! The story is unfolding and of course there's a hint of romance in there now! As you probably know, if you pay attention to the tags, that this is a slooooooow burn but hang on cuz stuff WILL get good. Anyways, again, please leave your questions, concerns, thoughts, etc in comments. You guys know I love them! And please pop by and visit me on tumblr!


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